


Be Careful What You Wish For

by thelookyouredoingthelookagain



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Distance, John's Realisation, John's lonely, Kissing, M/M, Masturbation, flirting via text, sherlock's bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-08-08 10:21:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7753915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelookyouredoingthelookagain/pseuds/thelookyouredoingthelookagain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock is off on a top secret case and John is getting ready to enjoy some quality quiet time at the flat. The plan backfires in a way John never expected, pushing him into some Sherlock-like behaviour to get the detective back where he belongs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sherlock's Departure

**Author's Note:**

> All works here were produced by two friends in the fandom. One writes as SH and one as John, and we edit together. Our characters are based on the BBC's _Sherlock_ , though we don't mind playing a little loosely with canon and the occasional AU. We have whims and like to follow them. While we like to torture our boys with constant misunderstandings, we know they belong together and we always see to that.
> 
> All posted works are complete, and we hope there will be something for everyone. We've got a back catalogue of 100 stories, so feel free to get lost within them. In 2016, we'll be slowing the pace a little, but we hope we've got enough to keep you entertained in between postings. **We hope you'll subscribe.**
> 
> We also really appreciate the kudos and comments. They mean a lot -- sometimes they inspire new ideas and works, sometimes they just make us feel all warm inside. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and liking and being a great community!

At first John was upset. Yes, Sherlock's working a case on his own did happen occasionally when John couldn't get away from work in time, but this time it was intentional. According to Mycroft, there was a case out of town and only Sherlock could go. John had schemed and tried every possibility from promises to bribes. It didn't seem fair at all.

But this feeling soon faded. Mycroft's constant visits to prepare Sherlock left John irritated and tetchy. Sherlock's trip corresponded with his own holiday, and now John was actually looking forward to having the flat to himself. The food would be where he left it, untouched. He could sleep as long as he wanted without running all over London. He could watch anything on the telly as loudly as he wanted. It might in fact be the perfect fortnight in a long time. If Sherlock and Mycroft didn't want to tell John what was happening, he didn't want to know. These two weeks would be all about him.

The morning Sherlock was going to leave John woke early to see him off, already looking forward to lounging around lazily for the rest of the day.

Sherlock was in his room, finishing his packing. He still wasn't entirely sure about this whole thing. The case sounded interesting, but he wondered, was is too interesting? It almost felt like a trick. And he still couldn't get his head around why John couldn't come. Of course, everything related to Mycroft came with a bit of mistrust, but this time, Sherlock wondered if perhaps John was in on it as well. He had claimed he wanted to be involved, but then gave up rather quickly and Sherlock could have sworn last night John seemed perfectly eager to get him out of the flat. There was a part of Sherlock that wondered if once he arrived, it would turn out that there was no case at all.

Once everything was packed he came out of his room to find that John had already made tea. He took a cup and then moved into the sitting room. "So," he said. "I'm leaving today. Are you sure you'll be all right on your own?"

"Of course I will be," John said, trying not to sound too eager.

"I'm sure you'll be able to reach me if you need anything," Sherlock said.

"I won't call you when you'll be so busy."

Sherlock glanced over. "Well, it's good of you to understand," he said. "But two weeks is quite a long time. You can call if you need me."

"I won't need you," John said flatly. "You can call if you need me," he added.

Sherlock didn't like John's responses at all. "Obviously I won't need you, I just meant --"

"That I can't survive on my own for a fortnight?"

"No," Sherlock said sharply. "Fine. It appears there will be no need for us to talk."

"Fine," John said. 

"Fine, excellent," Sherlock said. "Well, I hope you won't be too bored while I'm away. If you run out of things to do, you can always tidy this place, but don't touch anything on my desk. I'll know, John, I will so just . . . stay away from this whole area," he added, moving his hand towards his desk.

"Hmm. Maybe I'll go through everything. Maybe I'll even go into your room," John said.

"I'm going to assume that is what you like to refer to as a joke," Sherlock said. "That said, you should probably be aware than I've already booby-trapped most of my things, so it would be rather unwise on your part to attempt any kind of interference with my property."

John laughed and shook his head. "Guess we'll see, won't we?" he said, knowing the uncertainty would drive Sherlock a bit mad. 

Sherlock really didn't need another thing to worry about, so he decided to assume John's comments were just to annoy him, which they kind of did. He got up and took his mug to the sink. "All right, then," he said, moving to get his coat and scarf. "I'm off, I guess."

John sobered a bit and got up as well, following him to the door. "Okay. Just . . . be safe, yeah?"

"That --" Sherlock said, grabbing his bag, " -- is your last nag for fourteen days so I hope you enjoyed it." He turned towards the door. "I'll see you soon."

"See you," John said. He stood at the door and watched Sherlock go.

Sherlock headed out to the kerb when Mycroft's car pulled up. He slid into the backseat, next to his brother. 

"I trust there were tears," Mycroft said.

"What do you mean?" Sherlock asked.

"Never mind," Mycroft said as he slid a folder onto Sherlock's lap. "A slight change in plans."


	2. A Slight Change In Plans

John took his tea and sank into his chair to read the paper. Automatically, he started listing off possible cases, stopping mid sentence and looking around. That's right. He didn't need to do that now. Shaking his head at himself, he went back to reading quietly. After a few minutes he stopped again and looked around. Things were too quiet. He turned on the telly for background noise. It was a little better. 

The telly wasn't very much like Sherlock, but John just figured that it would take a day of getting used to the emptiness so he just let the odd feeling settle and hoped it would be gone in the morning. If it had been John who'd left, Sherlock would have been texting him already, but John wasn't going to do that. After finishing the paper, he stood up and went over to Sherlock's desk, looking down at it. He didn't touch anything, but considered sending Sherlock a photo of him pretending. Maybe another time. He went out for a walk, picked up dinner for later, and then found himself with nothing to do again. 

He forced himself to find a film to watch, stretching out on the sofa. That was better -- he could never lie on the sofa like this when Sherlock was here because he was always sprawled out all over it. He enjoyed that thought through his movie, ate dinner, and got ready for bed. Tomorrow could be more exciting.

After a short plane ride, Sherlock was now settling into his new temporary home, a dull but functional hotel suite. He'd dumped his bag and set up a small desk at the table. He slipped the hotel key into his pocket and went for a walk to get a sense of the city. He walked down near the office where he now knew he'd be working -- from the outside it appeared like any other building on the street, but Sherlock knew that it held important information and many secrets as well. He'd be up early in the morning to begin his research. He stopped into a bar and got a drink and then walked back to the hotel, hanging the Do Not Disturb sign on the door.

Whether it was the newness of the place or the effect of the whiskey, Sherlock felt quite sleepy by the time he'd got into bed at the hotel. However, there was too much noise in the hotel, or rather there was not enough noise. It was so quiet that the few noises seemed too loud and too tempting to try to figure out. Sherlock got the remote out of the drawer and turned on the television, flicking through the channels until he settled on an episode of a children's show he remembered from when he was little. He closed his eyes and listened to just enough noise to block out any distractions. He fell asleep soon after. When he woke up, it took him a moment to remember where he was. He took a quick shower and headed out, stopping for a cup of tea to take with him.

John slept in later than he usually did and made his way to the kitchen. That's when he remembered Sherlock was gone, and suddenly it was too quiet again. But he wasn't going to focus on all of that again. He was going to make the day his. After having breakfast he started cleaning up and organising the sitting room. There was a nagging voice in his head telling him to text Sherlock, but he was committed to ignoring the urge. But the urge wouldn't go away. 

Finally, John convinced himself he would be able to concentrate better if he just texted Sherlock -- just to make sure he'd arrived safely and maybe to let Sherlock know John was doing fine without him.  He put his hand on a pile of papers on Sherlock's desk and snapped a photo of it. He sent the photo to Sherlock and added a message.

_While I'm throwing things out, do you need these? -JW_

Once Sherlock had been cleared to enter the office building, he'd been sent up to the top floor and began his research. The documents were quite extraordinary -- his brother's power was really quite amazing. He hadn't been allowed to bring in any electronics with him, so he pulled out a notebook and began writing.

John went back to cleaning, checking his phone every few minutes. It was with great difficulty that he didn't text Sherlock a second time. He took out a couple bags of actual rubbish, moved some things around to open some space, and still nothing. John reminded himself that Sherlock was working but then also reminded himself Sherlock never worried about harassing him when he was on dates. But he shook his head and told himself to snap out of it. Sherlock could be in a dangerous situation. And besides, he didn't need to prove Sherlock right. It hadn't even been 24 hours. He made himself focus on the flat again, and once everything was cleaned and dusted, he sat down to watch the news before dinner. 

Sherlock worked steadily for a few hours but eventually got thirsty. He wandered around the building and found a tea machine. By the end of the day, he'd been through a half dozen of cups. Eventually a man came in and told Sherlock he needed to lock up for the night. Sherlock packed up, picked up his phone and laptop and headed back to the hotel.

As he walked, he checked his phone and saw a text from Mycroft, reminding him that he should stay focused. Annoying. He deleted it and saw John's text.

_I've arrived obviously. Do not throw away anything of mine. SH_

When he got back to the hotel, he immediately took a hot shower. His neck ached from being hunched over the table, his wrist hurt from scribbling. He felt better afterwards. He reluctantly got redressed -- he needed to go get some supplies so tomorrow went more smoothly.

John was glad no one was around to see how quickly he jumped at his phone. He read the message and stood to take a picture of a cleaned off corner.

_Too late. -JW_

_You are lying. Put my things back and stop being horrible. SH_

Sherlock slipped the phone into his pocket and headed out to a little shop he'd seen last night.

_All I did was clean up a bit. Everything is where it should be now. -JW_

John didn't know why he felt like telling Sherlock any of this. He sat down, but kept his phone in his hand.

Sherlock was in the queue at the shop when John's text came through. Odd. Had John really gone through his desk? Or was this some kind of joke? He slipped the phone back into his pocket, paid for his things and walked back to the hotel.

He washed out the bottle he bought to take with him tomorrow and then made some tea which he drank as he picked apart a horrible pre-made sandwich. Then he opened up the bottle of whiskey and had a short glass, hoping that it would make sleep easy as it had done last night. He flicked through the channels, finding a show that John had made him watch once. This episode was no more interesting. He dug out his phone.

_Are you watching that show you watched that one time? SH_

_Maybe you could be a little more specific?-JW_  
  
_The one with the man with brown hair. SH_

_I don't know what you mean but in any case, I don't have the telly on. -JW_

Sherlock wrinkled his forehead. What was John doing if he wasn't watching television?

_Have you got a date tonight or something? SH_

John considered lying and saying he did, seeing as he was supposed to be enjoying his freedom, but he decided against it.  
  
_No. Do you?-JW_

_No. I hired a prostitute earlier, but I'm on my own now. SH_

Sherlock smiled to himself.

_Liar. If you keep that up, I'll really throw out your things. -JW_

John felt a stab of jealousy which embarrassed him for a number of reasons.

_You caught me. Though I might go down and get a massage tomorrow. I've hurt my neck, but I haven't even been doing anything dangerous so don't hassle me. SH_

_Somehow I don't believe that either. -JW_

John stared out into the empty flat, before sending another.

_It's really quiet here. -JW_

In his mind he said it oddly. Like it bothered him. But he was sure Sherlock wouldn't read it like that and he was grateful for it. John wasn't sure why his mood was so strange. Maybe he needed to get out of the flat for a day.

_Don't be hurtful. It's noisy here. SH_

_I was just mentioning it. -JW_

_Is that why you've texted, just to make me feel bad for the fact that I make noise in my own home? SH_

_No! I was only teasing. Including about your desk. -JW_

John looked around the quiet flat again, but he would never admit he missed the constant sound of Sherlock.

_Good. Don't muck about with my things, please. This show is intolerable, but the whiskey is kicking so I might try to sleep now. SH_

_Aren't you supposed to be working? Please keep your wits about you, I'm not there to protect you. -JW_

_Stop nagging. Good night, John Watson. SH_

_PS Don't touch my things. SH_

_Good night, Sherlock. -JW_

John set the phone down in his lap and sighed. Right. Tomorrow he was getting out of the flat and focusing on enjoying his week off. He wouldn't text Sherlock. He got up and got ready for bed, washing up the plate. He read for a while and dozed off with the light still on. The book falling woke him in the middle of the night and he realised he had said Sherlock's name, thinking the sound was him. He sighed and turned out the light, falling to sleep easily again.

Sherlock drifted off but when something loud came on the television, it woke him and he struggled to get back to sleep. He blamed John for that. He grabbed his phone, but realised it was probably too late to text and besides it would just give John evidence that Sherlock was a selfish child who couldn't tolerate being away from him. He flicked through the channels again and eventually went back to sleep.


	3. Texting Is All Right

When Sherlock woke up in the morning, he showered and dressed, boiling a few pots of water to fill his thermos and stuck a banana in his bag before heading off to get to work. 

At the flat, John found himself cleaning out the fridge. He didn't text Sherlock pictures this time as he actually threw things away. A bag of rotting thumbs, three eyes, and something that might have been alive when Sherlock originally put it in there.

After a quick shower, he had a quick chat with Mrs Hudson, who agreed to disinfect the newly cleaned fridge while he went out. He cut through the park on his way to the shop, buying actual food without the worry that it would be used for some odd experiment. He was excited to cook a proper meal for himself tonight.

Sherlock worked steadily, changing seats occasionally in the hope that the movement would prevent his neck from hurting. His brother had given him a list of things to look for, and he was stupidly pleased by the fact that he was finding even more valuable information.

When John got home he put all the food away and admired the clean flat. He wished Sherlock could see it. Then he turned and got to work preparing dinner. When the food was prepped and in the oven, John went into the sitting room with a mug of tea and hesitated for a moment. Sherlock wasn't home. The flat was his and technically he could sit anywhere. He moved across the room and sat in Sherlock's chair, shifting to get comfortable. He felt giddy, like he was successfully breaking a rule while the teacher wasn't looking. 

Mid afternoon, Sherlock took a break and stepped outside to ring Mycroft. Before he did, though, he nipped into the news agents and bought himself a pack of cigarettes and smoked one while they spoke. Then he headed back in. When he left that evening, he decided his day had been quite productive. He stopped at a restaurant on his way back. He sat at the bar and got a glass of wine and a salad, which he ate most of. He smoked two cigarettes on the way back to the hotel. When he got there, he realised he wished he could speak to John -- partly to tell him about his day, but partly just to speak to him. Because that's what they usually did and Sherlock had grown accustomed to it. He got out his phone but there were no texts, and he wondered if perhaps he shouldn't bother him. So he set it aside, took a shower and then lay completely nude on the bed, flicking through the channels.

When the timer for dinner went off, John prepared two plates before he remembered he only needed one. He brought it to the table, then changed his mind and went to Sherlock's chair again to eat. He put on the news and turned the telly more towards him so he wouldn't have to move.

Sherlock was a bit bored so he went off for a walk around the city, just to kill some time. He looked in storefront windows and ended up wandering into a bookshop. He saw a magazine that he thought John might like so he bought a copy and got a book of crosswords for himself, as well as a big bag of sweets. He left the shop, carrying the bag until he realised what he'd done was a bit stupid. He considered tossing the bag in the bin, but didn't. He passed some restaurants and bars and headed back to the hotel. He changed into his pajamas and then lay on the bed, flicking through the magazine first and then working on a crossword.

When John finished eating he put the second plate in the fridge for tomorrow and washed his own. He was kind of upset that he didn't have any messages from Sherlock. Maybe it was fine to text now because the day was over, and he would be done working. After all, their little challenge to each other was about calling, not texting. John shook his head and sank into his chair again. He flipped to that show where they try to find the father of children. He sat forward and snapped a picture.

_Your show is on. -JW_

Sherlock's phone vibrated. He sat up and the empty sweets bag fell onto the floor. He read John's text and looked at the photo. He kind of wished he was at the flat, even though he was also kind of enjoying being entirely in charge of this hotel space. He looked at the photo again and realised that the angle of the photograph meant it was clearly taken from his own chair.

_Are you in my chair? SH_

John looked at the picture again and swore softly.

_No. I just caught a bit of it. -JW_

_You're lying. I asked you to do one thing while I was gone -- stay away from my things -- and you have messed with my desk and are now sitting in my chair. Have you bumped your head or are you just being a child? SH_

John frowned lightly when he read the message.  He was only sitting after all. If Sherlock thought he was being childish, he would act that way. Per Sherlock's usual style, John didn't reply.

Sherlock lay on the bed waiting for a response, but one didn't come through. That was annoying. Really annoying actually.

_Do what you want. SH_

He pushed the phone down the bed and rolled over in a huff.

John slouched to make himself comfy in the chair and took another photo of himself, a lot of the chair visible this time, and sent it without a message.

Sherlock looked at the photo. Why on earth was John behaving like this?

_Are you alone or is someone else in the flat? SH_

_Alone? No. I'm having a real rager. Maybe I'll have everyone take a turn in your chair. -JW_

John didn't know where this attitude was coming from all of a sudden. Why would Sherlock leave him behind and then get angry at John for enjoying himself? It was ridiculous actually. 

_Why are you being cruel? SH_

_I'm not. I was only teasing and you yelled at me. -JW_

_Why are you teasing me? SH_

John thought for a moment.

_I don't know. -JW_

John wasn't really annoyed at Sherlock, not for being left behind. Not for anything. He looked around the empty flat and listened to Sherlock's show playing, and he sighed softly. He missed Sherlock. He'd only been gone for two days, and John already missed him. 

_Sorry. I'll move to my chair. -JW_

Sherlock imagined John in his head.

_It's all right. You can stay there. It doesn't bother me. SH_

He thought for a moment and then sent another.

_Sorry. SH_

John smiled softly. He hadn't actually moved yet, and he didn't bother to now. But with Sherlock apologising as well, he figured he owed him something more. 

_It's odd without you here. -JW  
_

Sherlock smiled despite himself.

_I know. It's odd I haven't seen you today. I've seen you every single day since we met. SH_

John hadn't thought about it, but it was true. He took a deep breath. 

_Will you be in danger if we keep talking? If I keep sending messages? -JW_

_No. It's just during the day I'm without my phone or computer. SH_

John felt relieved. Not only because Sherlock was safe, but because they would keep chatting. He figured he could enjoy his time in the flat and still text Sherlock. He was a grown man and could do what he wanted. He realised as he thought it that he himself had started the idea of being Sherlock-free for the fortnight, but he chose to ignore that thought. 

_Do you want to? SH_

_Keep texting? Of course. -JW_

_Good. How was your day? SH_

It seemed a bit generic, but it's one of the first things John would mention when he got home and for some reason Sherlock wanted to do what they usually did. 

_Good. I cooked a proper meal. -JW_

_I ate at a restaurant. And had some sweets on the bed. SH_

_I'm glad you're eating. -JW_

_I suppose your nagging affects me even when you are far away. SH_

John grinned.

_You love it. -JW_

_I do not. I have grown accustomed to it. Those are two separate things. SH_

_If you say so. -JW_

A few minutes later, he sent another.

_I've grown accustomed to having you in the flat, around me all the time. -JW_

_Why don't you go out on a date while I'm away? That's something you never want me around for. Take advantage of my absence. SH_

_That's a good idea. Maybe I will. -JW_

_And I suppose you'll want to tell me all the gruesome details. SH_

_There are never any gruesome details. Besides, I won't tell you anything about it. Although now I can actually bring someone home. -JW_

Sherlock sat up on the bed. He didn't think that was a very good idea.

_I don't think that's a very good idea. SH_

_Why not? We'll be in my room and you're not here to be bothered. -JW_

Sherlock wanted to point out that he didn't have to be there to be bothered, but he wasn't sure if he should. He turned off the lamp and lay back down.

_Fine. Do what you want. Just don't let anyone touch my things. SH_

John stared at the message for a little bit, feeling his stomach twisting like it had when Sherlock first reacted to his being in his chair. Was he angry now?

_I don't know, I'll see. I might be too busy. -JW_

Sherlock's brow wrinkled.

_Doing what? SH_

_Just cleaning up. Stuff around here. -JW_

Sherlock was still a bit confused. How much time could that take?

_Well, do what you want but please respect the fact that you are the only human being I can tolerate being around my things. SH_

_I know, Sherlock. Nothing will be ruined. -JW_

Sherlock stared at the text for a minute.

_Are you angry with me? SH_

_No.  -JW_

John knew that wasn't a satisfactory answer, but he felt odd again.

_Is something going on, John? SH_

_What would be going on? There's nothing. -JW_

_Okay. I believe you. I ate a whole bag of sweets so perhaps the sugar is affecting my brain. What are you going to do for the rest of the night? SH_

_I don't know. There's nothing to do, it seems. -JW_

Now John was feeling upset again. Sherlock pushed back to Mycroft all the time. Why hadn't he insisted that John could come too? Maybe he was tired of working with him. John hardly did anything, after all. Maybe Sherlock was starting to realise that. John looked around the empty flat, got out of Sherlock's chair, and moved into his own. 

_Maybe I can look for cases for when you get back. -JW_

_You don't have to do that, John. Use your time doing things you want to do -- chasing women, buying jumpers, watching porn, all those things you used to do more before you met me. Enjoy yourself. SH_

Sherlock smiled a little, hoping John would be all right with the teasing.

_I still enjoy myself. The cases too. I like doing them with you. I don't want to stop that. -JW_

_I don't want it to stop either. But you deserve a break from me. SH_

_I never asked for one. -JW_

_You do all the time. However, you've got one so why not make the best of it? SH_

_Fine. Bye. -JW_

In a moment of childish tantrum, John tossed his phone at Sherlock's chair and left it there. If Sherlock wanted a break then he would get one. John got up to go clean the kitchen, leaving his phone behind. 

Sherlock was surprised by the text. John was pouting but Sherlock wasn't sure why. Was he just trying to give Sherlock a taste of his own medicine -- was this some kind of childish game or was something really wrong? He waited a few moments, turning to try to get comfortable. When he couldn't, he stood up and went to the bathroom, coming back with a glass of water and another one of whiskey. He grabbed a book, but his eyes were too tired to read anything else today. He took a drink and went through the TV channels again. He hoped he'd soon get sleepy. 

John cleaned up the kitchen and grabbed his phone before going to bed. He got even more upset to see there was no message back. Fine. A small voice in the back of his head reminded him that John had been excited for a break from Sherlock before, but he harshly told it to shut up. He tried to convince himself he had been joking about that. He plugged in his phone and got ready for bed. 

Sherlock opened his eyes. He smelled . . . whiskey. He sat up and the empty glass fell on the floor. He'd fallen asleep before he finished it and it had spilled over his t-shirt. He pulled it over his head and went to rinse it out in the sink. He checked his phone. John hadn't sent any more texts but it was too late now to say good night. He shifted to the other bed and went back to sleep.

When John woke up in the morning he checked his phone right away, but there were no new messages. He got up and went to take a shower, trying to make a plan for himself today. 


	4. John Goes Out

Sherlock got up early and was waiting when the man came to unlock the office building where he was working. He was kind of enjoying being technology-free -- it felt a bit like no one in the world knew where he was, even though both his brother and John did. He wished John was here with him actually, but it probably was good that he had a little break from Sherlock. They'd never talked seriously about it, but he knew that John's life often revolved around him and that didn't always seem fair.

John left the flat after making himself a nice, big breakfast. He walked through the park again and went to a bookstore for a little while. It took about a half hour for him to be bored out of his mind and, for the first time, he found himself sharing Sherlock's need for some kind of criminal activity. He reached for his phone.

_Anything on? -JW_

_Is this Sherlock? Don't think pretending to be John will make cases appear. -GL_

_No, it's not Sherlock. He's out of town. I was just wondering. -JW_

_Oh. Out of town where? He didn't take you? -GL_

_Obviously not. -JW_

_Okay, relax. Come to my office and we can get lunch. -GL_

John put his phone away and made his way towards the Yard. Greg could distract him for a little while. Maybe if John tagged along on a case, he could tease Sherlock with it. As soon as that thought crossed his mind, his stomach twisted with guilt. That wouldn't be nice.

Sherlock popped out a few times during the day to have a cigarette. There was something quite nice about not being nagged about it, but as a result, he actually got a little bit of a stomach ache. At lunch, he went out and had some soup which seemed to help. He headed back to work. Today was definitely less interesting, but he knew the info was useful.

John arrived at the Yard and went out to lunch with Greg. John told him about Sherlock being gone and not actually wanting to work on a case until he got back. 

"So you're just bored?" Greg asked, but there was something about the way he'd asked that made John's brows wrinkle. 

"No, I am enjoying a quiet flat," he said. 

"Mhmm, so much that you're asking me for cases?"

"I just came to see you, that's all. Just something to do with my day that doesn't involve Sherlock."

Greg laughed. "Asking me for cases and coming to the Yard is your thing all of a sudden?"

"I thought having lunch with my friend was," John grumbled. His life didn't revolve around Sherlock, and he didn't like the implication that it did.

"I'm only teasing," Greg said. "It's just odd seeing you on your own. Ever since you moved in . . . I mean, of course, you're together all the time. It's nice. But this is nice, too. You're a good bloke."

"He and I aren't together all the time," John protested. 

Greg shrugged. "I'm just saying, it did him some good. You too," he added. 

John changed the subject back to what Greg was working on at the moment, leaving the topic of Sherlock for his mind to pick over later. 

Sherlock finished his work for the day and walked back to the hotel. His phone rang as he entered the room -- it was Mycroft, and his precise timing made Sherlock momentarily paranoid he was being watched. 

"Send all your notes through," Mycroft said when Sherlock answered.

"Am I done?"

"Not necessarily -- some of this is time sensitive and I need to see what you've found," Mycroft said.

"The notes are handwritten," Sherlock explained. "I can't take in technology."

"I am well aware of what you can and cannot do. Type them up and send them through," Mycroft said.

"But there are pages and pages. . ."  
  
"I hope so," Mycroft said. "It's not like you have anything else to do this evening . . . or do you?"

"No, I've nothing else to do."

"Good," Mycroft said. "And stop with the whiskey."  
  
"What?" Sherlock asked. "How did you know --"

"I didn't, but I know you don't like change and chemicals are the first place you turn," Mycroft explained. "And, of course, your response confirmed this for me. John is fine, Sherlock . . . please don't make choices that have long term consequences just to quell short term issues."  
  
Sherlock glanced in the mirror and then turned away to sit on the bed. "I have no idea what you're talking about. What does this have to do with John?" he said.

"Yes, your ignorance is blatantly clear to all who meet you two," Mycroft said. "Regardless -- less whiskey, more typing tonight. I'll expect the notes before midnight." He hung up.

Sherlock held his phone in his lap. His brother was infuriating. He felt like calling John to tell him about Mycroft and make sure everything at the flat was all right. But he didn't. He made a cup of tea, opened up his laptop and started typing.

When John got back home, he sank into Sherlock's chair again. He got out his phone and typed up a message.

_Greg had an interesting case. Will you be home soon? -JW_

He hesitated for fifteen minutes before giving up and sending it through.

Sherlock looked up from his laptop and retrieved his phone. The news from John was unexpected.

_Why are you working on cases? SH_

_Not working. Just saying. -JW_

Sherlock wasn't quite sure what was going on. Did Lestrade call John instead of Sherlock?

_Why aren't you out on a date, as you were threatening to be? SH_

_Maybe I fancy a case instead. -JW_

Sherlock stared at the phone. Why was everyone acting so strangely? He started to ask for details but then deleted that and then went with "Fine" but that didn't feel right either.

_Tonight I am typing up notes. You are better at typing than I am. SH_

That wasn't exactly what he wanted to say, but it'd have to do.

_You're better at cases than I am. Come home and we'll trade. -JW_

_I wish I could. SH_

That was precisely what he wanted to say.

John stared at the message and then glanced around the empty flat.

_Just come home. -JW_

_I can't yet. Besides I need to find the perfect balance of giving you time to relax without me, yet not enough time to come to your senses about what a horrible flatmate I am. SH_

_You're not a horrible flatmate. -JW_

_I'm messy. You can't deny that. SH_

_So? I don't mind, obviously. I live here. -JW_

Sherlock got up and made a fresh cup of tea and then got onto the bed.

_What do you mind about living with me? SH_

_I don't know. Come home again and I'll take notes. -JW_

_You're lying. I think you've already got a long list you've been saving to throw in my face when I finally go too far. SH_

_Can't throw anything in your face if you don't come home. -JW_

Sherlock's brow wrinkled.

_You're behaving a bit unusually. Is something going on? SH_

_I am not. I'm just saying it wouldn't be physically possible. -JW_

Sherlock thought for a moment. It seemed like something was up with John.

_Are you drunk? SH_

_No! If you don't want to talk just say so. -JW_

_I didn't say that. I'm just wondering why you are not doing something 'fun'. Unless arguing with me is fun for you. Is it? SH_

_Arguing with you is not fun. -JW_

He waited a full minute before sending the next text.

_I miss you. -JW_

Sherlock stared at the text for a few moments. He missed John, too. It was odd. Even when he was at home, they were often apart during the day and sometimes John went out in the evening. And they were still communicating, after all. But there was something different about not being able to see John's face or touch him. Not that Sherlock touched John very often. That wasn't the point. When he was at home, he could and now he couldn't. Maybe it was just the possibility he missed . . . it didn't matter and there was no reason to overthink it. Sherlock always found change a little difficult, especially when he wasn't in control of it. That explained why he felt odd. But John wasn't like that, so his reactions still seemed a bit strange.

_I miss you, too, but are you sure nothing's going on that I should worry about? SH_

John sighed and let his arm drape over the side of the chair. He didn't know what he'd expected this exchange would give him.

_I think I'll go to bed. -JW_

Sherlock frowned. He dialled John's number.

John looked at his phone for three and a half rings before answering. "Hello?"

"I wanted to hear your voice," Sherlock said.

John flushed lightly. "Well, now you have."

"Please describe to me the room you are sitting in," Sherlock said.

John looked around. "I'm in my bedroom. Despite my rules, I'm sure you know exactly what it looks like."

"A few more details, please," Sherlock said.

"There's my bed and the dresser . . . my wardrobe, the window -- what else do you want me to say?" 

"That's fine, that's enough," Sherlock said. "I just wanted to hear if something was wrong."

"I told you there wasn't," John said.

"I'm aware of that, but you could have been lying," Sherlock said. "Your responses were confusing me but I knew if I heard your voice, I'd know the truth." 

"I don't lie to you."

"All right, John, don't get yourself worked up," Sherlock said. "I just wanted to hear your voice."

John bit his lip. "It's good to hear your voice," he admitted.

"Well, good," Sherlock said. "Do you want to get any quick nagging before we hang up?" he added. "I'm not implying I miss it, but you know, I've grown accustomed to it, I suppose."

John smiled softly. "Eat your dinner and don't smoke," he said.

"Control freak," Sherlock said, laughing a little. "I've got to get back to typing now. Have a good sleep, all right?"

"Good night, Sherlock," John said.

"Good night, John," Sherlock said. He set the phone on the table and got up to get back to work. He finished late into the night and posted it to the secure server. His hands, eyes and body were exhausted, and he was able to easily fall to sleep.

John went up to bed, still holding his phone close. It was early, but he dozed easily. He dreamed, falling into a dream where Sherlock was lost. John was trying to find him, but no one knew who Sherlock was. Like he didn't exist. The longer he looked, the sadder he got. He was limping, sinking, there was sand everywhere. He woke startled, with a gasp.

He swallowed hard, taking his phone and padding downstairs again. He went to Sherlock's room, climbing into his bed. He took a picture of his hand wrapped in Sherlock's covers.

_I hope you don't mind. -JW_

Sherlock stirred at the noise of his phone. He reluctantly sat up, but then noticed the clock. It took a moment for his brain to realise it hadn't been his alarm, but a text that had woken him. He was relieved it wasn't time to get up yet. He looked at the photo.

_I don't mind. Sleep well, John. SH_

He put his phone on the nightstand, slid down the bed and went back to sleep.

John closed his eyes. He breathed in Sherlock's scent and he was asleep in minutes. He didn't dream. He slept soundly, the covered wrapped tightly around him.


	5. John Stops Pretending

Sherlock's alarm rang and he grabbed at the phone to turn it off. He dragged himself out of bed and went into the shower, stepping first into cold water which jolted him awake. He then turned on the hot until the temperature was comfortable. He washed his hair, but didn't like the smell of the shampoo. It made him think of home and how he was ready to go back. He missed everything about home. Including John.

As he stepped out of the shower, he thought about his conversation with John last night. Then he remembered the late night text John had sent. He clicked on the kettle and grabbed his phone to look at the photo again. Why was John sleeping in his bed? He felt confused again. But he needed to get to work, so after his tea, he got dressed and headed out.

When John woke in the morning, he felt confused about where he was. When he remembered, it came with the memory of sending a photo to Sherlock. Groaning softly, he dragged himself from the bed and made it neatly again. He went to the kitchen to make tea and breakfast. He didn't text Sherlock. He felt embarrassed. He didn't know what he'd say to explain himself. What was he doing? What was he feeling?

Sherlock got straight to work, though he noticed it was a different man who'd let him in this morning. This guy looked a bit suspicious, though it might have just been the fact he had a moustache. Sherlock did not trust moustaches. Nevertheless, he got to work.

Around midday, Sherlock took a break and went out for a cup of coffee. He got a sandwich and ate half of it, thinking of John's nagging from last night. However, he did smoke a cigarette before going back to work.

At home, John moved through the flat, pacing and thinking. He touched Sherlock's chair a lot, paced through his bedroom. He took out his phone.

_Why did you leave so easily without me? -JW_

John's text arrived as Sherlock was walking home. He felt a little confused and then defensive.

_I had to work. SH_

He sent it, but it didn't seem enough. So he stopped and sent another.

_And you said it was fine. SH_

That didn't seem quite right either -- it made it sound like he needed John's permission. He held the phone is his hand as he continued to walk.

_You fight Mycroft all the time, and you didn't fight for me. -JW_

John clutched his phone. He knew what he sounded like, but he couldn't stop. He wanted to understand Sherlock's motivation. Maybe that would help him understand his own thoughts.

Sherlock read the text but waited until he got back to respond. He put on the kettle and made a cup of tea.

_John, you know I will always fight for you. Why is this bothering you so much? SH_

John sank into Sherlock's chair.

_Because you didn't this time. -JW_

_This time only my skills were required and there were security issues. SH_

He took a sip of tea and then sent another.

_Why didn't you tell me not to leave? SH_

_My skills are never required. -JW_

_That's a lie, John Watson, and you know it. SH_

_I went to meet Greg and he took me to lunch. It's only your skills. I'm only there as your sidekick. -JW_

_We are a team, John. Please don't forget that, just because I'm away. SH_

He moved over to the window and stared out as he drank his tea.. It was ten minutes before John's next text arrived.

_Just come home. -JW_

Now Sherlock was worried again.

_John, if something is wrong, you must tell me. Please. SH_

_Nothing is wrong. I miss you. -JW_

Sherlock didn't quite believe that. Something more was going on, but he just wasn't sure what it was and John didn't seem willing to explain. He decided to try a different approach.

_What are your plans for this evening? SH_

John had put his phone down to go start dinner. He didn't reply until everything was in the oven.

_I'm cooking. -JW_

While Sherlock was waiting, he switched on the television, going to the menu to find something mildly interesting.

_Will you do me a favour? SH_

_What is it? -JW_

_At 8, turn on BBC2. SH_

_Are you going to be on the telly? -JW_

John turned it on now to be ready.

_Of course not. There's a documentary on I thought we could watch together. SH_

John flushed lightly and couldn't help a small smile.

_Dinner will be ready by then. -JW_

_Good. I'll pretend to eat it since that's what I usually do when I'm there. SH_

_Okay. -JW_

He hesitated and then sent another.

_Thank you. -JW_

_Here's something else you'll appreciate: I've smoked every single day I've been here. SH_

_I told you not to. -JW_

_You're not the boss of me. SH_

_Yes I am. -JW_

_You wish. SH_

_Maybe. I can still ask nicely. -JW_

_You're better at bullying. SH_

_Come home. -JW_

Sherlock felt a little tinge of a feeling, but he couldn't really name it.

_That's not bullying. Be more menacing. SH_

_Come home now. Please. -JW_

_Alas, the please negated any menacing effect, I'm afraid. SH_

_Well, I tried. -JW_

_Go get your food the show's on. SH_

John set his phone done as he retrieved his plate. As soon as he brought it into the sitting room, his phone vibrated.

_Pay attention to th show. I'll be quizzing you afterwards. SH_

_Fine. I'm watching. I'm even taking notes. -JW_

Sherlock watched the documentary for a few minutes and then got up to use the toilet. He came back and dug out some snacks he'd bought earlier. He picked up his phone.

_I'm eating by the way. SH_

_Thank you. I've just finished dinner. -JW_

_I bet my food was better than yours. SH_

_I doubt it. Mine was homemade. -JW_

_Mine was Fruit Pastilles. SH_

_I don't approve. -JW_

_That is all right with me. I expected that and appreciate your not letting me down. SH_

_I'll make dinner for you when you're home. -JW_

_I'd appreciate that. Fruit pastilles and whiskey, please. SH_

_I definitely don't approve. -JW_

_You eat a lot of rubbish, too, you know. Chips are not a major food group, Doctor Watson. SH_

_I don't have chips that often. Not even once since you left. -JW_

_I wouldn't judge you if you had. Because I am so happy-go-lucky. You should be more like me. SH_

_Maybe you're drunk. -JW_

_Not tonight. SH_

_Hmm. Don't be while you're gone. -JW_

_Bossy. SH_

_I am the boss. -JW_

Sherlock smiled. This was still unusual, but nicer than the more worried talk.

_Is that so? So what should I do once this documentary finishes? SH_

_Not quiz me. I've been horrendously distracted. -JW_

_You're not drinking, are you? SH_

_No, I'm not. -JW_

_How have you been sleeping? SH_

As soon as Sherlock hit Send, he remembered the photo from last night. He wasn't sure if he should have brought it up.

John flushed and decided to respond as if nothing odd had happened.

_Fine. The same. -JW_

Sherlock frowned. That was very clearly a lie. Why?

_Are you going to sleep in my room again? You can if you want. SH_

Okay, John thought, pretending last night hadn't happened wasn't going to be an option.

_Maybe. It depends. -JW_

_This bed is actually more comfortable than mine. Bigger. SH_

_I'm not there. -JW_

Sherlock wasn't sure what John meant.

_There are two beds here actually. I spilled something the first night so moved to the one nearer the door. Perhaps I'll switch up this evening. SH_

_I didn't spill anything. -JW_

_Good. Don't spill anything tonight if you sleep in there again. SH_

_I won't. -JW_

Sherlock got up and threw the sweets wrapper away. He took his phone and went outside to have a cigarette.

_I'm outside having a fag. Pay attention to the film in case I have questions when I return. SH_

_I'll try. -JW_

Sherlock inhaled deeply and leaned against the brick of the hotel.

_Last night you claimed you couldn't think of anything about my flatmate abilities that bothered you. Is that still true? Keep in mind, I'll be saving these texts for future reference. SH_

_I haven't thought about it again. Your bed is more comfortable than mine. That's not fair. -JW_

Sherlock smiled at John's comment. He finished his cigarette and sent a reply before he headed in.

_Fine. You can have it. Or rather we can make a trade. What do you have to offer me in exchange? SH_

_Hmm. You can turn my room into a lab. -JW_

Sherlock smiled and then thought for a moment -- he'd meant that John could move his bed upstairs or they could switch rooms, but clearly that's not what John was thinking. Unusual.

_So are we going to be sharing the bed then? SH_

John's eyes widened. He read the messages back a bit and realised what he had assumed. And hearing Sherlock suggest it -- his whole body warmed. He shook his head and rubbed his face lightly. 

_Of course not. How about I let you smoke one cigarette a month. -JW_

_I've smoked ten today. Your offer is hardly enticing. SH_

_That's because I am not there to stop you. I'll let you smoke twice a month for your bed. -JW_

_No deal. Enjoy it until I get home and then you can either return to your own or I'm happy to lease you half of mine for five quid a night. SH_

_I'm not paying anything. -JW_

_Then my bed is not an option. SH_

Sherlock stared at the texts for a moment.

_This is an unusual conversation, don't you think? SH_

_Fine, I will just suffer in my awful bed. -JW_

John ignored Sherlock's question. It was very odd, talking about sharing beds. He needed to be careful. Whatever his brain was trying to work out right now didn't need to be brought up to Sherlock. That would just make things even more odd. 

Sherlock glanced up at the television.

_Did you enjoy the film? SH_

_Yeah, it was okay. -JW  
_

_What are you going to do now? SH_

_I don't know. Go to bed, I guess. -JW_

John glanced at Sherlock's room and imagined climbing in with him, lying close to him, holding him...his face warmed, as well as the rest of his body again. 

_Are you working tomorrow? SH_

_I'm off all week. -JW_

_Why? SH_

_I'd already booked time off before I knew you were leaving. -JW_

Sherlock wasn't sure that was true.

_Did you take time off so you could come with me? SH_

_No. When I put in for it I didn't know you'd be gone. -JW_

_So how do you plan to enjoy your time off then? SH_

_It's already almost half gone. I've cleaned up, cooked, and harassed you. -JW_

_And have you enjoyed that? SH_

_The cooking, yes. -JW_

_So you're claiming you've not enjoyed the harassment? I find that hard to believe. SH_

_It's more fun when you're here. Besides, I meant I didn't really enjoy the cleaning. -JW_

_Why do you nag me, John? Is it some kind of control thing? Or do you secretly resent my cleverness? I am teasing, but I suppose I am also a bit curious. SH_

_I just want you to take care of yourself so you don't get ill. It's not unreasonable. -JW_

_So your concern is purely medical-based? SH_

_You're my best friend. I care about what happens to you. -JW_

Sherlock smiled to himself. John Watson was a very kind man, even if that kindness revealed itself in ways that occasionally felt a bit annoying.

_The feeling is mutual. Does this mean I should spend more time nagging you? SH_

_Only if you actually start listening. -JW_

_I listen to everything you say, John. I think the actual word you're looking for is obey. That's a totally different thing. SH_

_Don't nag me. -JW_

John grinned and hoped Sherlock understood that he was teasing. 

_I'm going to nag you all the time now because apparently that's how friends show how much they care. I'll soon forward a list of 100 things for you to do or not do. SH_

_Hmm. That's a pretty specific number. Have you thought about this already? -JW_

_If you want to know the truth, from the day we met, I've been compiling my list. However, I thought I should keep it quiet, but now I know you'd prefer me to try to boss you around all the time. SH_

_Fine. Do what you must. -JW_


	6. Secrets

Sherlock thought for a moment. These conversations with John had been strange, but perhaps they could be useful as well. Being apart might make it easier.

_Tell me one of your secrets. SH_

John blinked at the message. What was getting supposed to say to that? He bit his lip.

_I did already, about your bed. You tell me one. -JW_

Sherlock thought about it. Maybe John thought he was teasing, but wasn't sharing secrets part of friendship, the kind of thing Sherlock struggled with? Somehow it seemed easier to try it this way. He took a deep breath.

_Sometimes I feel like using. I won't. But sometimes I crave it. SH_

John sat up straight, his body suddenly cold. That was a real secret. Sherlock wasn't playing a game. He took a deep breath and tried to focus on the middle part of the message. He didn't want to lecture Sherlock if he was going to be opening up. But he also knew he had to share something real now.

_I'm worried you'll realise anyone can do what I do and replace me. -JW_

Sherlock thought about John's secret. Maybe that provided a little insight into John's response to Sherlock's being away.

_I wish you would realise that no one can do what you do and that is why I could never replace you. SH_

_Well, I'll keep that in mind. -JW_

He paused and then sent another.

_I thought you being away for a bit would be different than this. I don't like it. -JW_

Sherlock wondered precisely what that meant.

_What were you expecting? SH_

_I don't know. I thought I would enjoy the quiet, the stillness. But I don't. I miss you. Everything. -JW_

Sherlock took a deep breath. Was John just lonely, not liking being by himself? Sherlock liked being on his own, but maybe John didn't.

_I'm sorry I'm not there. SH_

_Are you almost done? -JW_

_I don't really know. I sent him my notes last night, and he sent a few more requests. I don't know if that'll be the end of it or not. SH_

_Should I start nagging him as well? -JW_

_Don't bother. Human needs have no effect on him. SH_

_I'll try and be patient, then. I'm glad we can text, at least. I'm going to lie down, I think. -JW_

_All right. Text me if you need me. And don't make a mess in my room. SH_

_I'm not going to sleep yet. Are you? -JW_

_No. I thought you meant you were going to sleep. Are you in my room? SH  
_

_I'm going to sleep in there, I think. -JW_

_Fine. Remind me why again you're doing that? SH_

_I can't remind you of something I never told you about in the first place. -JW_

_I am aware of that obviously. That was my way of asking for your reason. SH_

John climbed into Sherlock's bed, the same side he was on last time. He considered the question. Given what Sherlock had admitted, John decided he should be honest.

_I had a nightmare that I lost you. -JW_

_You mean you couldn't find me? SH_

_Technically, but that's not what it felt like. -JW_

_You mean I was dead? SH_

_That's what it felt like. I never found you. -JW_

_I'm not dead and you will always know where to find me. SH_

Sherlock paused and then quickly sent another.

_I'm sorry I wasn't there to help with the nightmare. SH_

_It's not your fault. I slept better afterwards. -JW_

_I'm glad. Any thoughts on what caused it or are you not in the mood for dream interpretation at the moment? SH_

_I don't know. -JW_

_Fair enough. I dreamt a fat man wearing Mycroft's suit was pushing a pencil inside my ear. Any thoughts on what that might mean? SH_

_That you're annoyed with your brother. I don't need a degree in dreamology to figure that out. -JW_

Sherlock thought for a moment.

_You were there as well. SH_

_What was I doing? -JW_

John turned his head and breathed deeply. The bed still smelled like Sherlock and he smiled, waiting for the reply.

_Mumbling something about my bed. SH_

John imagined how much stronger the scent would be if Sherlock was still sleeping in this bed until this moment when John decided to smell it. That led him to thinking about climbing into bed next to Sherlock. His phone vibrated before he realised he'd yet to respond. _  
_

_I think you might have also called me selfish, sloppy, and unkind. Or maybe that's just what you said the last time I saw you. I might be confused. SH_

_I did not! Don't be mean. -JW_

John was hardly focusing on the conversation. His mind was drifting. . .imagining himself moving closer to Sherlock, pulling Sherlock over him so he could be engulfed in his scent.

_I think Dream John might have called me mean as well. Or no wait, that was real John, just now. SH_  
  
Sherlock smiled to himself as he climbed into bed. He turned off the light and flicked through the channels, trying to find something to distract him since it was a bit too early for bed, but he didn't really feel like doing anything else.

John imagined Sherlock over him, breathing against his neck now, hot against his skin. He shifted in bed, biting the inside of his lip. Sherlock's lips were probably soft. They looked like it.

Sherlock glanced at the television, noticing it was a show he'd seen John watch before. He watched a few moments of it, but then remembered that it was incredibly stupid.

_You have terrible taste in television shows. SH_

John turned and buried more into the unused pillow, breathing deeply. He imagined Sherlock's mouth moving lower, on his neck and chest. He sucked in a shaky breath. A small voice was telling him to stop going down this path, but he wasn't listening.

_That's nice. -JW_

Somehow Sherlock had been sucked in to the show, and he absolutely could not believe this guy was seriously thinking of quitting his job and moving abroad for a woman he'd never even met in real life. How could John tolerate this kind of storyline? When his phone vibrated he picked it up and read the text. What was John talking about?

_Is everything all right? SH_

John pushed his hand down into his pants, stroking his cock slowly. He imagined Sherlock moving down there, spreading his legs open. John let them fall open as he thought it, and he moaned softly. He kicked the covers off and took off his pants. He was naked on Sherlock's bed. He grabbed his phone.

_Fineew. -JW_

John rolled his eyes at the typo but didn't fix it. What if those soft lips stretched over his cock? He shivered and stroked harder, looking for lotion and, to his surprise, finding a small bottle of lube.

Sherlock swore at the man on the television. How could he not see this woman was no woman at all, but an international con man? He picked up his phone and read John's message. All right now, something was definitely going on. John was not really paying attention anymore. Was he going to sleep already? It seemed too early, especially for someone who hadn't done much all day. Or had he been lying? Maybe he wasn't even home -- maybe the whole sleeping in Sherlock's bed thing had been a joke, and John was actually out on a date right now. That was a bit annoying. Why didn't he just tell Sherlock what was really going on?

_Where did you find this one? SH_

John covered his face as it grew hotter. He imagined pushing up into Sherlock's mouth and Sherlock pressing his hips back into the mattress. He sped his thoughts up, skipping to Sherlock moving up his body again, pressing his own hard cock against John's thigh. "Oh..." he gasped. He forced his eyes to his phone.

_Fimsa wja -JW_

John tossed it across the bed to focus on his fantasy. He imagined flipping Sherlock, moving down his lean body, taking Sherlock's cock into his mouth. His hand was moving faster now.

Okay, now Sherlock didn't whether to be worried or annoyed. Was John in trouble or was he just trying to tell Sherlock to stop bothering him? Sherlock read back over the exchange. It seemed to be going all right until about fifteen minutes ago. He decided to just leave it for a bit and then check in on him. He set the phone on the table and turned his attention back to the television.

John's mind was racing with images now. John was on his hands and knees as Sherlock pushed into his body, Sherlock was under John with his legs spread as John pushed into him, they were stealing kisses at crime scenes, kissing hard against the wall, John could feel Sherlock's cock on his thigh--

And suddenly John was coming, whimpering and moaning Sherlock's name as he put the pillow over his face to keep breathing him in. It seemed to last an hour. When he slumped flat and moved the pillow, he was panting heavily, his free hand now over his face again as the other slowed to a stop. He licked his lips and hoped he hadn't made a mess on the bed. He would check in a moment – when he got his head together first.

Once the show was over, Sherlock was feeling a bit annoyed -- with the man on the show and with John who he somehow blamed for making him watch the snow. He got up and went to the toilet and then made a cup of tea which he brought back to bed with him. He picked up the phone. No message from John.

_Fine. I'm going to sleep then if you're done with me. SH_

John groped for his phone.

_I'm here. I was falling asleep. -JW_

He flushed as he looked through the typos and quickly sent another.

_Sorry. I'm here. -JW_

Sherlock felt a little relieved that at least John was all right. Maybe he hadn't been lying about being at home. But his two texts sounded a bit suspicious.

_Are you really in my room? SH_

John lifted the phone and took a picture of himself with Sherlock's pillow underneath. He examined it very closely before sending it.

_I am. -JW_

_Do you think you'll be able to sleep? SH_

_Yeah, I do. Are you comfortable, where you are? -JW_

_I suppose so. My eyes and body have been quite tired and this bed's quite large, so that's good It's not the same as being home obviously, but I didn't have a drink last night but still fell asleep. SH_

_That's good. Soon you'll have your own bed again. -JW_

John was actively not thinking about what he had just done in Sherlock's bed.

_Unless you refuse to let me. SH_

John closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Sherlock's scent was fading.

_I'll have to. -JW_

_We'll see. I'll let you sleep now. You can text if you need me, you know. SH_

_I know. Good night Sherlock. -JW_

John plugged his phone in to charge and finally thought about what he'd just done. That had come out of nowhere, but now he couldn't stop thinking about it. He wanted it. Even sitting here now, embarrassed and confused, he wanted those things to happen. He bit his lip and got up to change the sheets. Then he crawled into bed again and let himself doze off and fall asleep.

Sherlock closed his eyes. This bed really was quite comfortable. But he was ready to be done with this project. He was ready to go home and have things be how they were. Texting with John made his being away better, but something seemed off. Not bad, just different. He was ready for things to be the same again.


	7. John Is Clear, Sherlock Is Confused

In the morning, Sherlock woke to his alarm. In all honesty, he didn't feel like getting up and getting started. He was comfortable and warm and if he could have anything in the world, it would be John Watson bringing him a cup of tea and chatting with him while he drank it. He lay there for a few moments. That wasn't going to happen, of course, so he dragged himself to the shower and got himself ready.

He headed to the office building, smoking three cigarettes on the way, which gave him a little bit of a headache. He poured himself some tea and began taking notes. When he stood up a few hours later, he stretched and then started to pack up his things.

"You can leave that here," a voice said.

Sherlock looked up. It was the man who'd let him in the first few days.

"I mean, no one comes in here obviously," the man said. "I'll keep my eye on it or you can lock it up with your other stuff. It just seems silly to pack and then have to unpack everything just to go out for a cigarette."

Sherlock tried to read him -- it might be possible that he passed by him closely enough to have smelled the smoke or maybe his window overlooked the alley where Sherlock smoked.

"Joseph," the man said, nodding as an introduction. "Whatever . . . it was just a thought."

Sherlock threw the notebooks into his bag and said, "Thanks anyway." He stopped at the locker and retrieved his phone before heading outside and into the alley. There were no windows so he pulled out his phone and sent a text to his brother.

_Supervisor here seems curious. I am bored. When am I done? SH_

He waited a few moments for his phone to vibrate.

_Control all information. Will contact you this evening. MH_

Sherlock slipped his phone into his pocket and went back in.

John avoided texting Sherlock for the first half of the day, working on his blog for a bit before going out for a walk. He was still trying to clear his head. When he got home, he sat in Sherlock's chair and gave in and sent him a message.

_Any word on your homecoming? -JW_

When Sherlock was finished, he packed up and retrieved the rest of his things. Joseph called goodbye and Sherlock nodded towards him as he passed.

On the street, Sherlock checked his phone for news from Mycroft but saw John's text instead.

_Maybe soon. I'll know tonight. You okay? SH_

_I'm okay. I hope it really is tomorrow. I still have time off work, maybe we could do something. -JW_

John felt odd about asking, but he knew it was his guilty conscience about what he had done the night before. They always went out together; it was normal. Now it felt like he was asking Sherlock on a date. He was even nervous for the answer.

Sherlock hoped he hadn't misspoken about being able to leave. Perhaps if he just convinced himself he was definitely done, it would come true.

_Like what? SH_

_I don't know. Just dinner or something. Maybe somewhere new to celebrate. -JW_

John winced, stuffing the phone under his thigh in embarrassment. 

That seemed a little bit strange. Celebrate what? Sherlock began to wonder if it was John's birthday or something.

_All right then. SH_

He nipped into a news agents and then smoked three cigarettes before he got back to the hotel. He dropped his phone onto the bed and moved into the bathroom. He felt better after his shower. In hopes that tonight really was his last night, he decided to go out for a walk. He headed down to a busy street with lots of restaurants and bars, stopping to read menus and looking inside a few. He settled on an outdoor cafe and got a salad and a drink, sitting outside and watching the people for a while. He kept his phone next to him, waiting to hear from his brother.

John realised he'd made too much food for dinner, so he popped down and invited Mrs Hudson up to eat with him. She seemed to know that it wasn't originally for her, but he changed the subject when she tried to question him about Sherlock. When they finished and she realised she wasn't getting anything out of him, she thanked him for dinner and left. He went back to Sherlock's chair and tried to read for a while. But really he was waiting for a word from Sherlock.

After a couple hours, Sherlock gave up and headed back to the hotel, smoking the whole way. He considered ringing Mycroft, but knew his brother was so obnoxious that doing something like that might mean he'd keep Sherlock here longer just to spite him. He tried flicking through the channels to keep him distracted, but eventually he texted John. 

_What are you doing? SH_

_I just had dinner with Mrs Hudson. -JW_

_I went out to dinner. SH_

_Fancy. -JW_

_Yes. Six course meal. I'm fat now. You probably won't recognise me. SH_

_It would take a lot more than six courses to fatten you up. -JW_

Sherlock sat down with his cup of tea. He pulled his laptop over in case his brother was going to contact him that way. He smiled at John's text.

_I just know how to dress well. You should see me without my clothes. You'd be startled. SH_

_Is that an offer? -JW_

John hesitated for a moment. Sherlock didn't know what John had done or imagined. The comment would come off as playful teasing. Hopefully. He pressed Send.

_To do what? SH_

_See you without clothes. -JW_

Sherlock was a little confused.

_You've seen me without clothes. SH_

_Well, technically. -JW_

_So what is it exactly I'm supposed to be offering you? SH_

_Nothing. I'm only teasing. -JW_

_You're not drunk, are you? Were you and Mrs Hudson playing drinking games? SH_

_No! Why do you always think I'm drunk? -JW_

Sherlock decided to answer honestly.

_Because you've been a bit confusing since I've been gone. SH_

_I'm sure I don't know what you mean. -JW_

Sherlock thought for a moment. Maybe it was just him, maybe it was his struggle with change. Maybe it was just Sherlock who was confusing everything.

_All right then. Sorry. SH_

_You just haven't been away since we've met. Maybe when you're not here, I'm unable to communicate clearly. -JW_

_I don't buy that. Maybe it's because I can't see your face or hear your voice. It's easier to understand you when I can. SH_

_Trust what I am telling you. -JW_

_What are you telling me, John? SH_

_To trust that I'm the same. Just trust me. -JW_

John realised he was asking for something that Sherlock couldn't possibly understand. When John revealed his feelings -- he suddenly realised he'd decided he would tell Sherlock at some point --he didn't want any doubts or accusations of teasing. He wanted Sherlock to believe him and to hopefully feel the same.

_I do believe you. I just found you a bit confusing these past few days. You said you were okay with my leaving and then you got angry at me. We were in the middle of a conversation and then you disappeared. I just got confused. But don't doubt that I trust you. I do. SH_

_Everything is fine. -JW_

_All right. We're not fighting, are we? SH_

_No, we're not fighting. -JW_

Sherlock was in the bathroom when he heard a notification from his email. He rushed out, hoping to find an explanation from his brother and news that he could go home. 

_Job over. Train in ninety minutes. MH_

There was no explanation. But Sherlock was going home.

Mycroft was annoying, but still, Sherlock was pleased. He immediately started packing up his things and within thirty minutes, he was on the street. He walked to the station, smoking the entire time. He thought about throwing the packet away before getting on, but decided not to, just in case something happened.

Once he was on the train, he pulled out his phone.

_I'll be home in three hours. SH_

John gasped and sat up, looking around the flat. There was nothing to do for Sherlock's return. Even his bed had fresh sheets. He hadn't expected having to prepare his words so soon.

_That's good news. -JW_

Sherlock slipped his phone into his pocket, closed his eyes and tried to relax through the ride.


	8. Sherlock's Return

John stood and started straightening up a little, mostly pacing to organise his thoughts. What was he supposed to say to Sherlock? That he only just realized these new feelings? Why? Because Sherlock was gone? Suddenly he was struck with a fear that, when John saw him in person, he wouldn't feel this way and it was all something he had built in his head out of loneliness. He sat down in his chair to wait. He couldn't do anything until Sherlock came home. And he had to remember that Sherlock didn't know anything about this, so if John kept his mouth shut, things could just stay the same. 

Sherlock opened his eyes and glanced at his watch. It wouldn't be long. He realised he felt a little giddy, which was an odd feeling to feel. And then that realisation made his feel a little anxious. He'd expected to want to be home, but there was something a bit different about this feeling. He thought about their conversations and John's responses to Sherlock's questioning. He did trust John, but his instincts told him there was something specific going on.

John stood up again and went down to Mrs Hudson's, knocking loudly.

"Sherlock is coming home," he said. 

She looked at him for a moment, as if expecting more. "That's good, dear. Do you want me to bring up tea?"

"No," he said, more aggressively than he meant to. "I just mean I'm making it -- I mean, the kettle's going. I just wanted you to know."

She smiled knowingly and nodded again. "Of course."

John stood there for a second longer in awkward silence before he turned to go upstairs. He thought he heard her chuckling softly, but he didn't look back. He was just being nice, assuming she'd been worried about Sherlock. That's what he kept telling himself as he went back up to the flat and actually started the kettle. 

Sherlock got off the train and got a taxi to the flat. He looked up at the window before he let himself in, hoping that John had waited up for him. He climbed the stairs and opened the door, dropping his bag there.

John rushed out and then stopped short, worried Sherlock would think it was odd that he was moving so quickly to the door. It was like he was seeing Sherlock for the first time, like he'd been gone a year instead of a couple week. But this proved to him that his feelings were real. He felt hot all over. He moved closer and, before he could say anything at all, he tugged Sherlock close and kissed his mouth, wrapping one arm around Sherlock's neck. 

Sherlock smiled when he saw John, but then John was moving towards him and kissing his mouth, and Sherlock didn't know what to do or say. To be honest, he forgot how to even think for a moment. The kiss didn't upset him, it surprised him. It'd been different being away and now this was different, too. He slipped off his coat and hung it up. Then he looked at John and said, "Hello . . . I'm home." It was the best he could do.

"I missed you," John said. He stepped back and rubbed his neck awkwardly. "And . . . and I realised I feel . . . well, like that so . . . I'm sorry," he said. "I should have asked or . . . explained before you came home but..." He trailed off, ending his ramble mid-sentence.  

Sherlock moved into the kitchen. "Is there tea?" he touched the kettle and felt its heat so he poured two cups. He was concentrating on the task, trying to stay calm. Without turning his head, he said, "I missed you, too."

John moved slowly into the kitchen, nodding the whole way. He made himself stop. "Look, we don't have to talk about it or deal with it or...anything." He sighed. "We can pretend it never happened."

"I don't want to pretend," Sherlock said. He took a sip of tea. "I knew something was different . . . but you didn't say. . ."

"I -- I know," John said. He took a long sip. "I know I should have mentioned it but I didn't know how and I saw you and I just . . . yeah." He turned to go upstairs. "You probably need to time to think."

"Don't go," Sherlock said. "I -- I missed you. I've been away . . . I want to be around you. . . "

"I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable," John said, turning back again.

"Just -- let's sit down," Sherlock said, moving into the sitting room. He looked around a little and then turned towards his desk. "Did you really throw any of my things away?"

John shook his head. "No. I just organised it all, made it a little neater."

"Good, thanks," Sherlock said. He took another sip of tea and looked over at John. "So you're sure? About your feelings, I mean."

John licked his lips. "I am. I'm been thinking about it for most of the week," he admitted. 

"I see," he said, stretching a little. He looked around the room again. "Sorry about getting home so late. Are you going to bed soon?"

"Yeah, I think so," John said as he finished his tea.

"Did you . . . want to sleep in my room?" Sherlock asked tentatively.

John nodded. "I would," he said. "You don't mind?"

"I think that would be all right with me."

"Okay," John nodded again. He moved away from the stairs and back towards Sherlock and his room.

"I think I'll need a quick shower," Sherlock said, grabbing his bag. He headed into the bathroom, setting his things out in their usual spaces.

John watched him go before moving into Sherlock's room. He stripped down to his pants and undershirt before climbing into Sherlock's bed. He couldn't help thinking about what he did here. He closed his eyes to wait for Sherlock.

Sherlock stood under the hot water. He was washing but he was also thinking. Obviously this business had crossed his mind since John had moved in, and it made sense an explanation for John's unusual reaction to his leaving. It was not a total surprise, yet it was still unusual. But everything about John had been unusual and everything about him had also been good. There wasn't any reason this had to be different.

He stepped out and dried off, realising he didn't have any clean pajamas in there. He wrapped the towel around him and went into the bedroom, glancing at John sitting in the bed, and then moving to grab and slip on some pajamas.

John glanced over and fixed his eyes on Sherlock, biting his lip lightly. Slightly wet with just a towel on? Definitely not what he needed when he was trying not to think about what he'd done in this bed. He looked away and shifted in the bed to get a bit more comfortable. 

"Did you bring in a glass of water?" Sherlock said, as he grabbed the towel to take back to the bathroom.

John shook his head. "I didn't think about it."

"I'll get one," Sherlock said. He hung the towel on the bathroom radiator and then returned with two glasses of water. He set them both of the bedside table and then got in. "Did you sleep on this side when I was away?" he asked.

"This side," he said. He thought about the night before. "And a bit in the middle."

Sherlock looked over and made a little smile at John. "It's been a long time since I slept in the same bed as someone else. I hope I'm all right at it." He shifted a little. "It's good to be back," he said as he stretched out.

John nodded. "Can you tell me about what you were doing?"

"I can," Sherlock said. "I spent the entire time writing out notes. He gave me a list of names, events, and places, and I was shut up in this . . . well, basically library full of files, and I had to look them up and write down the relevant information. I had to do it all by hand. At first it was mildly interesting -- it was kind of bizarre to be in a place full of so much information and I liked finding what I was seeking, but then it became more tedious and my hand really ached." He lifted it up and opened and closed it to elicit some sympathy.

John reached out slowly and took his hand, lacing their fingers. "You know how Mycroft is."

Sherlock let his fingers brush against John's. "I'm going on the assumption the information was actually needed for something," he said. "Though it could have just been an excuse to control me for a week. He didn't come here and try to get you to do anything, did he?"

John shook his head. "I haven't heard from him."

"Good," Sherlock turned a bit onto his side, facing John. "You know, we have slept together before. . . just not in the same bed. And we've both slept in this bed, just not together."

John smiled. "That's true. This won't be so different."

"Maybe it will be though," Sherlock said. "I mean, if we kiss . . . that'd be different."

"Yes, I suppose that's true," he said. He licked his lips lightly. "Are we going to kiss again?"

"I'm interested in that," Sherlock said. "Unless you didn't like it the first time." He squeezed John's hand.

"It happened so quickly, maybe we should try again so I can be sure."

"Fine, but don't be cruel if you're not keen," Sherlock said. He dropped John's hand and instead held his face as he leaned in and put a soft, long kiss on his lips. Then he pulled back and rested his head on his pillow.

John smiled giddily, biting his lip. "I lied. I did remember the first one was good, and I just wanted another one."

"And you said I could trust you," Sherlock said, mock upset. Then he looked over at John more seriously and said, "But you will need to be a little bit better about talking to me now, you know. I don't always . . . pick up on these types of things."

John nodded. "I was just trying to figure it out myself. There won't be anything else like this again," he said. 

"Good," Sherlock said. He leaned in and kissed him again. "Maybe we should move a little closer to each other."

John complied, shifting to move closer to Sherlock. "I missed you a lot."

"I missed you," Sherlock said. "Even the nagging," he added with a smile.

"Liar," John grinned. "Have you ever thought about this before?"

"I don't know," Sherlock mumbled. "Maybe once or twice . . . I mean, you're the only person I can tolerate so naturally it makes sense that I'd occasionally dream about you."

"You've dream about me? I didn't think about it until this week," John admitted. "I thought about a lot of things."

"Like what?" Sherlock asked.

John felt his cheeks warm. "Just . . . different stuff we could do together," he said vaguely.

"I'm afraid that's good enough, John Watson," Sherlock said. "Details, please. Don't feel shy. Otherwise, I'll just have to start guessing and my guesses might disgust you." He smiled.

"I imagined us having sex," John said outright. He picked at the mattress. "Here on your bed. And then some other stuff all over the flat. And on cases."

"I see," Sherlock said. He looked closely at John. "Pervert," he said dramatically, turning over and hiding his smile.

"Hey! You wanted details!" John said, trying to tug him around again.

Sherlock rolled over and curved around John. He tucked his head against John's arm, so he was close but wasn't looking directly at him. "You'd like that . . . even though I'm a man?" 

"Yeah. It looked really sexy when I thought about it."

"Intriguing," Sherlock said. He pushed a kiss onto John's neck.

John smiled softly. "It's not entirely new to me, but I imagine it'll be phenomenal with you."

Sherlock found that bit of information even more intriguing but he didn't let on. Instead, he said, "I'm sure it will be."

John smiled softly. "Are you imagining it now?"

"Maybe," Sherlock said, smiling. He moved over so he was flat on his back. "Not tonight, though, I'm too tired . . . This bed isn't quite as comfortable as the hotel one, but it's comfortable in a different way since it's home." He reached over and held John's hand again. "And because you're here." 

John smiled. "You're very sweet when you're sleepy," he said.

"I am, aren't I?" Sherlock said, looking over and smiling cheekily.

John laughed. "Decision pending," he said.

Sherlock put his arm on John's. "You're sweet," he said. "Sometimes it annoys me, but you are and it's mostly good."

John laced their fingers again. "I try."

Sherlock yawned and snuggled down into the bed. "You'll wake me up if you have a nightmare, right?" he said sleepily.

John nodded. "I will," he said, tugging the covers up better and closing his eyes.

"Good night, John Watson," Sherlock said. "I'm glad I'm home and I'm glad you're here." Sherlock suddenly felt more tired than he had in a long time. He closed his eyes and was soon asleep. He woke up a few hours later, slightly confused. He was used to hearing the noise of the television from the hotel, but the room was silent except for the sound of breathing. John's breathing. John who was lying next to him and who had kissed him. Sherlock touched John's arm and then went back to sleep. 

John woke early in the morning having spent the night soundly and dreamless. He looked over at Sherlock and started touching his face softly, tracing his lips and his jaw and his cheeks. He was gorgeous.

Sherlock shook his head slightly at the touch. He opened his eyes and saw John, smiling lightly. "Morning," he mumbled and rolled over and closed his eyes again.

"Morning," John murmured, playing softly with Sherlock's curls now, slightly flat from lying on them all night.

"Tea," Sherlock mumbled again and lifted his hand to brush John's away.

"Hmm, I think I want a kiss first," John smiled.

Sherlock made a little hum as he turned over and kissed John good morning. He grinned and said, "Tea, please" again before closing his eyes, still wearing a stupid smile. 

John kissed Sherlock again before getting up. He yawned and stretched, padding to open the door only to find Mrs Hudson there with a tray. John flushed as she grinned wide.

"He just got back. We were talking late and --"

"Maybe he can make that second bedroom a lab now and get that nonsense out of the kitchen," she said, passing him the tray before walking off.

John made a face as he brought it into the room and kicked the door shut.

Sherlock pushed himself up. "Fancy," he said, leaning to look over at the tray. "And fast."

"I'm good," John smiled.

"Are you going to be expecting me to do this kind of thing for you?" Sherlock said, taking a sip of tea. "Because I probably won't." He smiled a little.

"Hmm, maybe sometimes. I'll be sure to ask nicely."

"Come get back in bed," Sherlock said. "You don't have to go to work. We don't need to get up yet."

"Somebody demanded tea," John reminded him as he climbed back into bed with the tray.

"I didn't demand, I just asked. I can't help it if you're unable to distinguish between the two," Sherlock said. He took a sip of tea and smiled genuinely. "God, it's good to be home."

"Are we going to stay in bed all day?" John asked.

"I think we should," Sherlock nodded. "Though I'll probably need tea on a regular basis. Is that likely to happen?"

John made a skeptical face. "We'll see," he laughed. 

Sherlock set his mug down and turned towards John, his face serious all of a sudden. "I can't be someone I'm not," he said. "I know you must know that, but don't forget it. And all this is . . . different but some things will still be the same, right? 

John nodded. "Some things will be," he said. "Most things, really. But it will be better now," he said. "Easier."

"You've always been easier . . . for me," Sherlock said. "I know you can't say the same in return, but . . . thank you for, well, everything, I guess."

"What I mean is . . . everything I've felt for you, being over protective and worried . . . all that . . . it makes sense now and there won't be this internal struggle. It all makes sense now. That'll make everything easier."

Sherlock smiled. "Good," he said. "Now let's stop talking and kiss for a bit, all right?"

John grinned. Instead of replying he leaned in and kissed Sherlock softly.

Sherlock kissed him back. He was so glad to be home.


End file.
